Better than us all
by katyfaise
Summary: He notices the trail of bruises on her inner thigh one night when her skirt rides a bit too high to be appropriate. Suddenly the anger inside him rises and he's storming out of the bar amongst questioning glares and voiced opinions. Modern AU. Oneshot.


He notices the trail of bruises on her inner thigh one night when her skirt rides a bit too high to be appropriate. Suddenly the anger inside him rises and he's storming out of the bar amongst questioning glares and voiced opinions.

This is his punishment, he knows. Instead of living a life, he sits on the outskirts and watches. He observes and lends a helping hand whenever needed but never enough to experience life the way they do. It's much easier to drown himself in paperwork and writing speeches and caring about other people than it is to take care of himself. He _wants_ to interact – to feel hands on his body or enjoy the taste of a shot of whiskey but it's easier said than done. The weight of the world lies on his shoulders and his alone. Perhaps he has made it this way to escape everything else and he's the only one to blame, but he hates it.

"Enjolras?"

At first glance she looks guilty, but when their eyes meet she looks just as strong as ever. "You okay?" Eponine is standing there awkwardly, unsure if she should get close to him or not. Instead, Enjolras watches her replace her uncertainty with a cigarette and as her lips close around it, he wants to yell at her.

She's an adult (though only from experience and definitely not years because they're still slipping her alcoholic drinks at this point), but her choices will always reflect those of a young girl.

"Yes. You should go back inside," he mutters, pressing his hands deep into his pockets. Eponine doesn't relent though, and instead she moves closer for half a second. In that moment the two of them are barely an inch apart and he wants to reach out and touch her and try to make everything better for her. He would never leave those marks on her skin. He would never abandon her. He would never call her a whore or a slut or any of the other harsh words Montparnasse chooses to use.

Instead she laughs and exhales the smoke into his face and he coughs in return.

"You're such a silly boy."

Eponine takes a step back and widens the space between them. He feels himself wanting to linger near her but he can't bring himself to reach out for her. Luckily, with her cigarette poised between her lips, she holds out her hand and he clasps it with his own. Her eyes show no evidence of what she's leading him to, but it's not back inside the bar. Instead he finds himself in the dark alley between two buildings and he pauses. She tosses her cigarette to the ground and without a rest she attacks his lips with hers.

She tastes like cheap beer and Marlboros and it's the best thing he's had on his lips in years.

He pushes her heavy leather jacket off of her arms and it falls to the dirty ground with a loud thud. It's only when his hands are trailing up her back and Eponine is fumbling with his belt does his breath catch in his throat.

"I can't…"

"What the fuck?" Eponine is breathing heavily and he can feel anger, instead of lust, radiating off of her now. He leans his head into the crook of her neck, his heavy breath growing even as time passes. "You've got to be shitting me…" She falls back against the brick wall, muttering a string of curses under her breath.

"That's no way for a lady to talk," he said flatly, although he had meant it as a joke.

"Well I'm not a lady if you didn't notice." Eponine smooths her shirt out and leans down to pick up her discarded jacket. Enjolras can see that she isn't happy, but he isn't sure how to explain himself.

"I'm… sorry. I just can't. You're better than this," he explains, motioning around them. Fucking Eponine in some alley just seems cheap and he feels for her more than this. But regardless of his kind words or his good intentions, she is rolling her eyes and seems angry about the whole situation.

"But I'm not…" she sighs and fishes a cigarette from her pocket to light. "Don't act holier than thou, Enjolras. Some people can't go around day by day and deny basic human emotion."

The words bite him in the worst possible way, so much so that he flinches. "I don't want to treat you like _he_ does." It's the worst thing to say because she's reminded that she's still in a relationship with Montparnasse and suddenly her eyes grow somber. "Don't," she warns him, shaking her head and clenching her fists. "Don't act like my choices are your responsibility, Enjolras," she continues, spitting his name. "I make my own decisions, not you." He expects her to walk away at this point but instead she is attacking him once more, the fire in her being reignited.

Unlike last time, Enjolras doesn't fight her and when she is pressed against the brick wall again, she definitely isn't fighting him. The way he holds her is a stark contrast to the way she moans against his skin, urging him to press harder or thrust faster. He is gentle and calculating with each move while she bites and scratches and doesn't care where her hand ends up. She moans his name in release and it pushes Enjolras to the edge of his own. He pulls out of her with the absence of protection and finishes his orgasm with the help of Eponine.

He breathes heavily and Eponine wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. She runs her nails across his scalp, allowing time for the both of them to return to level breathing. For the first time he has relaxed and completely forgotten about everything else. It's a new feeling and Enjolras isn't sure how to wrap his head around it but for right now, he doesn't care. Eponine is humming along to a song creeping out from the bar and it's a beautiful sound. She litters small kisses around his jaw before pulling away and shrugging her jacket on again.

Just as quick as she had appeared, Eponine is disappearing from the alley, presumably going back inside the smoky bar.

No words. No regrets. Nothing.

It's frustrating and with his belt buckled again, Enjolras groans. She's frustrating and she gives him a migraine by just thinking of her.

But she makes him feel – she lets his heart flutter around for just the right amount of time that he needs to be a real human. But she's still better than all of this.

She's better than them all.


End file.
